A Grand Deception

by Shirley Marks

  Standing before his full-length mirror in his bedchamber, he regarded his refection. The gold-shot Burgundycolored waistcoat was neither his first choice nor his second. Sherwin had wanted to sport one of the new garments he'd purchased, again with the guidance of Freddie. Unfortunately, none of them was ready for wear. He had wished to appear at his best for her.

  Sherwin allowed Lewis and Lady Amhurst to make the decisions for this evening. The valet could labor over as many neck cloths as needed to achieve success, brush all the lint from every inch of his garments, and take an inordinate amount of time fussing with the accessories. Sherwin knew he would place the final and most important item on his person: the miniature portrait of Muriel.

  Muriel stood next to Susan in the Burnettes' ballroom. She admired the simplicity of the Roman ruins depicted on the beveled window of her carved ivory brise fan.

  "That's new, isn't it?" Constance leaned toward the fan to admire it. "It's pretty, but the decoration is ... odd, don't you think?"

  The fan was lovely and more delicate than Muriel would have chosen for herself, but this had been a rather special gift, arriving at Worth House by special messenger just as they had descended the staircase to leave for the ball. It was a gift from him.

  "If you will recall"-Susan quickly spoke before Muriel could muster words into a comprehensive order-"when she was younger, Moo had a particular fondness for learning Classics and such."

  "That was ages ago." Constance gazed heavenward. "She was quite the bluestocking back then. I'm relieved to know she's outgrown that silliness."

  "I think you'll find that she will always retain some interest in that area." Susan, who had spent her childhood with Muriel, knew her friend had always been obsessed with everything Roman. She tried to temper Constance's censure.

  "I'm so very sorry for you, Moo. I hope that part of your past will never be discovered."

  Constance would need to work much harder if she were to get a rise out of her cousin tonight. Muriel could tolerate almost anything this evening. She'd never felt happier in her entire life, not even when she'd discovered Signore Biondi and he'd accepted her as his new Latin student. Even she had surprised herself with the discovery of her affection for Sherwin. Whether masked by the surge of anger at their first meeting in Town or disguised as a long, cultivated, mutual understanding, she could not deny that their shared interests had existed from the very first time they met.

  "Oh, look at the Earl there." There was only one earl who interested Constance. "Quite a court he's holding."

  A bevy of young ladies and their mothers surrounded Sherwin on the far side of the room.

  "You'd better join them if you have any hope of catching his attention," Susan recommended strongly, just stopping short of physically pushing her.

  Constance smoothed her pale yellow skirts and straightened before stepping toward the Earl to join his admirers.

  "What chance do you think she has of securing a dance with him?" Susan's question seemed more rhetorical than one for Muriel. "I have no doubt that man dances with only those he wishes."

  There had been a few lucky enough to step onto the dance floor with the Earl. As for Muriel, she did not need to be asked.

  "Save me a waltz," Sherwin had told her before she left Signore Biondi's that afternoon. Besides the obvious answer that he wished to share a dance with her, as she did with him, if they did not dance, it would cause further speculation they were not getting on. That was very far from the truth, indeed.

  Sherwin finished the current set and strode to Muriel's side to claim his dance. He bowed before her, not too low as to hint of any out-of-the-ordinary connection between them, just the usual nervousness, knowing they were on display, and offered her his arm.

  "It is not quite time to gather for the next set." Muriel accepted his escort, placing her hand upon his arm. If she had not accepted his arm, that would have caused a scene.

  "I cannot wait any longer to share your company." Sherwin would not return to his mother's side. There was nothing more he wanted at this moment than to be near Muriel, pull her into his arms, and kiss her.

  "You looked as if you were well occupied. Do you dare ignore all those lovely ladies who wait attendance upon you while you stand by my side? You shall cause a fresh bout of gossip." She peeked at him out of the corner of her eye, just as depicted in her portrait.

  "Let them all talk, say whatever they wish. What care I?" Sherwin slid his hand over his waistcoat pocket, savoring his treasure. "You are the loveliest lady in this room. I cannot tell you how difficult it has been not to give in to the temptation to gaze in your direction. I'd much rather admire you instead of pretending that any of these other ... charming ladies have a remote chance of holding my interest."

  "I am sorry you must endure such torture." Muriel dared to laugh at his discomfort.

  "I will not endure it for much longer. We may take a turn about the room, or the gallery, or the gardens-anywhere that we might be alone until it is time for the next set."

  "You know we cannot be alone-it is most improper," she scolded him.

  "Even though we are eng-"

  Muriel shushed him and brought the tip of her fan to her lips. "Do not make this any more difficult than it already is, I beg you."

  "Very well." He chuckled. "I shan't tease you again."

  "I will ask one favor of you, if I may." Muriel stared up at him. "Constance has been forever wishing your attention. Would you do the honor of dancing with her?"

  "I only do so because you ask, and I am in a precarious position where I can deny you nothing." Sherwin doubted there was a finer night that this. "And will it break her heart when she discovers I am to wed her cousin?"

  "I cannot say, but she will have the pleasure of dancing with you once." Muriel smiled up at him, and Sherwin thought he would lose his solid form and be reduced to a puddle at her feet.

  "It was my intention to inform my mother of my decision before attending the ball. I have yet to be successful in that regard, but I promise you that after standing up with your cousin, I shall seek out my mother and inform her that I have decided upon a bride. I will contain myself no longereven you will not be able to stop me."

  "As you wish, my lord." Muriel peeked out at him from the corner of her eye again.

  "I shall call on you tomorrow and speak to your father. Then there shall be no more secrets." He placed his hand on hers and wished this moment could last forever. How he adored her. How perfect they were for each other. With a gleam in her eyes that, even with his long-sightedness he could perceive, he could see how she, too, adored him.

  "I welcome the opportunity to free myself from the duplicity that surrounds me-I will admit some of which is of my own making." Muriel's hold on his arm relaxed as if in anticipation of their future. "Honestly, Sherwin, I do not believe I could keep another single secret."

  Sherwin had asked Constance for a dance, which she accepted and seemed to have thoroughly enjoyed. She spent quite a bit of time in conversation with a group of ladies on the far side of the room before returning to Muriel and Susan.

  "I must confess, it would not take much for the Earl to win my affection," Constance whispered, nearly out of breath. "It is only that I've heard the most disheartening thing. All is lost, I'm afraid. He is to be married."

  "To whom?" Susan, who could not have known it was Muriel, showed genuine surprise.

  Muriel would need to tell her soon. Susan was, after all, her dearest friend, and Muriel had not wished to keep such news from her. But she had to until her father and Sherwin's mother approved the match.

  "No one knows." Constance sounded quite put out. "It's a secret engagement. And just as I begin making progress with Amhurst ... it is most dreadful."

  Muriel felt her silly smile, the one Susan had chided her about, returning. She dropped her fan open and raised it to hide the lower half of her face.

  "I don't know when they're to make the announcement. I do admit, I am most cur
ious to learn who she is. Do not worry, cousin, I am not so angry." Constance glanced toward the Earl as if there might be a clue to his fiancee's identity. "There is nothing for it. If Amhurst is no longer available, I believe I must turn my attention toward Sir Samuel Pruitt."

  That's when Susan dropped her fan open and brought it close to her face.

  After his set with Constance Kimball, Sherwin sought his mother. He approached Lady Amhurst and stood with both hands resting in the small of his back and planned to wait by her side until he received her undivided attention.

  "What is it, Amhurst?" she replied in a cool tone at his presence.

  "Might I have a private word with you?" He stared at her, making certain she would not put him off again as she had during the drive there earlier that evening. When he had tried to raise the subject, she had silenced him with a wave of her hand, deeming it more important he listen to her ongoing list of instructions.

  "Excuse us," Lady Amhurst cooed at the guests around her and nodded her head in a gracious manner to her son.

  Sherwin led her off to one side of the room where they were sure not to be overheard. He glanced across the room at Muriel, who gently fanned herself. There were no words to express the delight he felt in seeing her with his gift. She was beyond lovely, and he couldn't wait until he had the chance to stand up with her a second time.

  "I think you will be pleased with what I have to say, my lady." Sherwin could not help but smile. As much as his mother wished him to marry, she could not be, he decided, any happier than he.

  "What is it, Sherwin?" His mother sounded impatient. "Do you not have a dance with Miss Shrope next? Why don't you go find her?"

  He faced his mother and announced, "I wish to inform you that I have decided upon a bride." He placed his right hand upon the precious portrait resting in his waistcoat pocket.

  The inquisitive gazes of the guests around them grew curious, but Sherwin knew they would need to wait until both families gave their consent before a public announcement could be made.

  "You have? That is astonishing news!" Lady Amhurst clasped her hands together in delight, or was it in anticipation? "Who is she, pray tell?"

  "Lady Muriel Worth," Sherwin whispered. It felt good to say her name out loud. "I have not spoken to her father as of yet. I shall seek an audience with the Duke of Faraday first thing tomorrow."

  Lady Amhurst's smile fell from her lips. "No, I will not agree to this match," she said, her voice becoming softer in her attempt to control her anger. "That gel is not suitable."

  Sherwin didn't understand-Muriel was perfect! "Her father is the Duke of Faraday, her brother the Earl of Brent, her uncle Baron Kimball, her brother-in-law-"

  "Although quite exceptional, I am not speaking of her family connections." Lady Amhurst did not take a breath before continuing, "I will not have her in ours!"

  An immediate silence struck the room, and a chill of dread surrounded him at his mother's declaration.

  Sherwin turned to face Muriel. Her cheeks had flushed to a raging scarlet. Even though she stood halfway across the room, she was the only one who could have "heard" every hurtful word of Lady Amhurst's.

  The sound of Muriel's fan snapping closed echoed through the room. She threw it forcefully to the floor and crushed its delicate ivory sticks beneath her silk dancing slippers before exiting the ballroom.

  Muriel stalked out of the ballroom, turned a corner, and continued down the corridor. She swiped the tears burning her eyes and went straight into the ladies' room to remove herself from the unwanted attention of the other guests.

  How dare she? That woman had the audacity to declare that Muriel was not welcome in her family?

  That hateful, odious woman. Sherwin's mother. The Dowager Countess of Amhurst.

  And what had been Sherwin's reply? Nothing.

  She hadn't waited long to see his answer, true, but it had been enough time to know he would remain silent. If Sherwin did not oppose his mother in this, there would be no peace in the future. This was not to be borne. There would be no future for them, Muriel vowed, if he did not stand up for her now.

  "Moo, what is it? What has happened that you-" Susan hurried in. Apparently she had followed the swiftly moving Muriel out of the ballroom and had finally caught up to her. "You are ... oh, goodness-Moo, you are crying."

  Nothing had ever made Muriel cry. Until this happened. To be clear, it wasn't Lady Amhurst's rejection ... it was Sherwin's apparent inability to disagree with his mother.

  "What can be so horrible?" Susan rubbed Muriel's arm and took up her gloved hand. "This cannot be. Tell me what I must do for you, dearest."

  There was nothing Susan could do.

  Muriel pulled free from her friend. "I will be fine, Sukey. Pray you, give me a moment to collect myself." She sniffed and pressed her cheeks with the palms of her hands and squeezed her eyes closed, attempting to calm herself and regain self-control.

  "I cannot imagine what happened. One moment you were standing next to me, and the next ... well, you were dashing out of the room-and you know very well I cannot keep up with you when you run." Susan now took the time to check her own dress and smooth her hair with her hands.

  "I am sorry, Sukey. I was not running away from you," Muriel replied, never giving any thought to those who were around her. "It was nothing you did or said, believe me."

  Two women approached, chattering loudly in alarm.

  "My dear." Mrs. Wilbanks cooed and soothed Muriel by rubbing her shoulders. "Oh, my dear, you are so overwrought." Turning to Aunt Penny, she said, "She is excessively fatigued. Did I not tell you, Mrs. Parker? Our dear Muriel has such a delicate constitution, and we have pushed her far too hard. Only see what our insistence that she attend parties every evening has done to her."

  "I cannot say what has unsettled you so, but I fear Mrs. Wilbanks is right." Aunt Penny soon stood on Muriel's other side. "I think it best we return home."

  "Yes, Aunt Penny, I do not feel well at all." Muriel drew in a ragged breath and feigned a bit of weakness. She did not feel light-headed or tired; she just wanted to leave the premises as soon as it was possible.

  The two older women found a place where Muriel could rest and eased her onto a small sofa.

  "Retrieve my vinaigrette bottle at once!" Mrs. Wilbanks sent her daughter on the errand with a wave.

  No burned feathers, smelling salts, or vinaigrette were going to drive away what ailed Muriel.

  Susan returned in a matter of moments and handed a small bottle to Aunt Penny, who lifted the lid and waved it under Muriel's nose.

  "You remain with Muriel, Mrs. Parker. We shall retrieve our outer garments and call for the carriage." Mrs. Wilbanks drew Susan away with her to attend to the tasks.

  "Oh, no-please, Aunt Penny, I beg of you." Muriel pushed her aunt's hand away. Her eyes watered again, this time from the unpleasant odor. "I shall not swoon."

  Susan and Mrs. Wilbanks soon returned with the cloaks. "I asked that the carriage be brought around to the side door so as not to cause a scene."

  "That was well done of you, Mrs. Wilbanks." Aunt Penny stood, donned her cloak, then returned to her niece, wrapping the garment around her shoulders and fastening it under her chin. "Do you think you are able to stand?"

  Muriel nodded. She stood with her aunt on one side and Susan on the other. Inquisitive glances and prolonged gazes from some of the female guests followed her departure out the side door.

  She reassured herself that no one could know the real reason she felt ill this evening. Continuing forward under the comforting wing of her aunt, Muriel did not look back. She had quite decided that she would never attend another ball, never return to London, and never, ever see Sherwin, the Earl of Amhurst, again.

  Muriel had gone before Sherwin had a chance to speak to her, to explain that he had every intention of revisiting their attachment, and their subsequent engagement, with his mother. He ran out of the room on Muriel's trail, only to be barred from entering th
e ladies' room.

  He felt awkward lingering about the door, watching ladies entering and exiting. They giggled and blushed when they saw him-or perhaps it was not him specifically but any gentleman who dare to remain near the females-only area. But he would not leave until he saw her. He waited and waited until one of the ladies' maids informed him that Muriel and her party had left the Burnette residence.

  Angry with Lady Amhurst, and angrier still that he could not make amends with Muriel, Sherwin sent for his carriage. He debated the prudence of following Muriel to Worth House and decided he might better consult Freddie in the morning. Sherwin then returned home. His mother would answer for the trouble she had caused.

  A sleepless night followed, which prevented him from further nightmares of the disturbing scene with his mother. But that did not stop him from thinking of it and the actions he must take to set matters between them to rights.

  "Put it away, Lewis, all of it," Sherwin ordered the next day upon waking. He would not allow the valet to dictate what he should wear, no matter if the instructions had come from Lady Amhurst.

  He did not need to repeat himself. Within five minutes, Sherwin stood in the striped ivory-colored silk waistcoat, buff trousers, and Hessians he'd requested. Lewis gave the brass buttons of the new blue Weston jacket a final polish before holding it out for his lordship.

  Sherwin stood by his bureau. He fastened his lover's eye onto a fob and slid it into his left pocket, then placed his gold pocket watch in the other. Ignoring the quizzing glass, which would have been his mother's preference, he motioned for his jacket.

  Lewis helped Sherwin don the final garment and stepped back. "Will that be all, sir?"

  Turning to the full-length mirror, Sherwin gauged his appearance. "My spectacles, if you please."

  "But-I, sir, her ladyship ... she did not-" Lewis' nervous fluster caused him to stagger backward.